


Quantum Entanglement

by fadewithfury (foxmoon)



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF Rose Tyler, Dimension Cannon, Dimension-Hopping Rose, Episode: s04e10 Midnight, F/M, Pete's World, Post-Episode: s02e13 Doomsday, Post-Episode: s04e13 Journey's End
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-23
Updated: 2015-10-23
Packaged: 2018-04-27 18:07:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5058658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxmoon/pseuds/fadewithfury
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor and Rose will be together again someday. It is written in their DNA, coded in the universe. Sometimes, we share parts of ourselves with others that are incapable of existing separately. We are entangled at the quantum level.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Quantum Entanglement: A physical phenomenon that occurs when pairs or groups of particles are generated or interact in ways such that the quantum state of each particle cannot be described independently—instead, a quantum state may be given for the system as a whole.
> 
> This work has not been revised from when I posted it before. It is also unbeta'd.

_Run._

Rose’s stomach twisted with a jolt of fear, yet she remained frozen on the stoop of the Tyler mansion, facing this different world and all of its unfamiliar hues.

It’s not that the colors were wrong—the grass was green and the sky was blue—they were just off somehow. Like someone had taken a dab of white paint and mixed it into everything, making it all just a little flatter. And colder.

Her mum would insist she’d just been inside too long. Maybe she was right. But nothing was the same anymore. Nothing ever could be the same.

Inside, she could pretend she’d never let go of the lever. She’d lie in bed every morning with her eyes closed, and imagine the sounds of the TARDIS. Feel them reverberate over skin. She’d bask in that little tug of excitement in her chest knowing the Doctor might burst in any moment to drag her out of bed and whisk her away on another adventure. She used to scold him for it, but she’d give anything for it now.

Outside, the illusion would break. Zeppelins floated along the horizon like giant dead fish in the water, a clear indication of her dislocation. Outside she cast a shadow, felt the wind, smelt the rain. She was undeniably here. 

The dark circles and tear tracks had been easy to cover with foundation, but out here it was her heart that remained exposed. Raw and wounded, shivering. Her calf muscles twitched.

_Run._

Evoked by her mind, the word urged her, almost a physical presence. Almost. Her empty hand closed in on itself, dull nails biting into her palm.

She’d awoken with this impulse. It had begun in her dream, and spilled over, embedding into the muscles of her legs, blooming into a primordial imperative that snapped into place at long last, echoing from the depths of time, building and building in urgency across the ages.

She took a first hesitant step onto the pavement, and another. Not knowing where she was going, not caring, she broke into a run.

She ran to the end of the estate, and found a path that led into the woods. She soared as if chased, her trainers beating against the humid earth like her thundering heart against her ribs.

She ran until her lungs might burst, pretending he was right behind her every step of the way.

He would be, if he were here.

-

The Doctor had been running faster than ever before for three hours, ten minutes and fifteen seconds. When pursued by Ridfen razor bears, one must never stop. Ever. It was a tricky predicament, because he had to stop. He couldn’t run forever. But, they could.

Sharp tree branches whipped by him, snagging on his coat. He had a tally racking up for how many nicks he’ll have to darn when he finds his TARDIS. Yes, he was bloody lost, but that wasn’t his fault. The bears had barbed him some time ago, made him all muddled. It had taken a good thirty minutes to metabolize the poison, but you know, this figures.

First planet he attempted to visit after losing Rose had to be filled with them, didn’t it? Well, it wouldn’t have been if he didn’t muck up the bloody landing. (If only she were here to tease him for it). He’d calculated his error at the first sight of their serrated fangs.

This system was small, with only two planets circling a white hot sun. One of them had been completely overtaken by an invasive species brought by offworld visitors (how very kind of them). The other was home to a flourishing civilisation with the best waffles in the universe. Turns out that the waffles were on the  _other_ planet.

Rose would’ve noticed right off. She’d have seen the chewed up flower heads by the TARDIS and wondered what that was all about. Could even hear her voice. (When would he stop hearing her voice?) He’d have known that the bears graze on that particular flower to help them digest their larger meals.

They’d have turned ‘round immediately, slammed the door shut, before a single sodding Ridfen razor bear noticed their presence. Then he’d have hugged Rose. He’d have hugged her so tight, felt her warmth in his arms. She’d smile and he’d smile, and they’d almost, almost…

He had a good seven minute lead. Teeth and fists clenched, legs pumping, he tore the image of Rose’s lips (and how much he’d longed to kiss them) from his mind. It helped for a little while, but like the blood cells in his veins, his body would keep generating more thoughts of her for every one he shed.

Blips of light through the trees created a strobe effect, indicating the sun was lowering on the horizon He focused on the ground ahead, where the forest floor was littered with little pools of sunlight. It helped to imagine they were bits of the other universe leaking through, and maybe one of them would lead to Rose.

Of course they wouldn’t. That’d be impossible. He had tried everything imaginable that wouldn’t tear apart the universe, so of course something as simple as sunlight wouldn’t be the key to—

“TARDIS!”

He barreled inside, wild grin on his face. Once in the time stream, he sprawled across the jump seat to rest, and turned his mind inward. He was on to something before, he was certain. It had sounded like bollocks before, but… Sunlight was energy. Energy could be harvested. If by some miracle there was still an opening between universes that hasn’t yet sealed itself off, maybe, just maybe…

-

Rose slammed her fist into Mickey’s shoulder. He staggered back, cursing.

It hurt, knuckles cracking against his sparring armour, but it hurt a lot less than the first time. She’d honed her technique. Quick and compact, putting her entire body into the swing.

Mickey regained his footing and went for a grapple, which Rose evaded with a sprint to the left, putting distance between them. She then aimed her gun and fired, the paint bullet splattering across his chestplate.

“Blimey, Rose. I think that’s a record.” Mickey grinned as he recovered. They moved off of the sparring pitch so the next team could have a go.

“Is it?”

“You’ll pass for sure.”

Rose began removing her sparring armour. “Thanks.”

“I still need to work on my stealth training, wanna help?”

“I have review, sorry. There’s that placement exam for the—never mind.” She stuffed her sparring gear into a duffel bag and slung it over her shoulder.

“For the what? Rose, you’ve been so weird lately.”

“S’nothing.” She narrowed her eyes. “No I haven’t.”

His deadpan look made her shift uncomfortably. She shook the stray, sweaty hair from her face and fixed him with a cool glance. “For the science officer position, that okay?”

He chuckled as he carefully pulled off his chestplate as to not get paint everywhere.

“Think that’s funny, do you?” Her brow furrowed and anger unfurled in her chest. “I wanna understand things like astrophysics and quantum mechanics. That so hard to imagine?”

He folded his arms. “You’ve got an ulterior motive. I know you, Rose.”

“What the hell’re you trying to say? I’m too stupid to comprehend that stuff so there must be some other reason?”

He put up his hands. “Oi, calm down. I didn’t mean—”

“I knew you wouldn’t understand.” She turned to go, seething.

He reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. “Rose, I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

“Oh, piss off.” She shook him away and stormed off towards the doors.

“Rose, stop!” He jogged to catch up with her. “Please! I’m just worried about you.”

She stopped, the concern in his tone tearing at her heart, but she didn’t turn around.

“Look, I understand, yeah? S’only been a couple months since… since Bergen. Maybe you need a holiday before you just—“

She whipped around to face him, her expression hardened. “I don’t need a bloody holiday! And we didn’t go to  _Bergen_. Was Dårlig Ulv Stranden. Stop babying me.”

Mickey flinched at her raised pitch. “I’m not tryin’…” He sighed. “Rose, you’ve done nothing but study and train since we got back. You’re closing yourself off more than before! I can’t—can’t even talk to you without you snapping at me!”

To her utter embarrassment, hot tears pricked the corners of her eyes. She turned away from him as her face turned red.

Mickey continued, his tone gentler. “So, I just think you need to give yourself a break.”

“I gotta go.” She pushed through the doors and out into the quiet hallway.

Mercifully, Mickey didn’t follow.

At the mere mention of that beach, she felt transported back in time. The glow of the fluorescent light overhead became the dull burn of sunlight. The echo of footsteps at the end of the hall became the tumbling surf. Sweat cooled her skin as it dried, reminding her of the bite of wind, and she could swear she felt the grit of sand on her fingers.

She squeezed her eyes shut as the image of the Doctor came to mind. His voice then filled her ears, speaking her name and nothing more. The potential of what he’d been about to say hung in the air like a ghost, haunting her ever since. She felt selfish to assume that he was going to say that he loved her. But what else could it have been?

Tears slipped down her face, and her breath hitched. She hadn’t cried since she left that beach—why now? Why here of all bloody places? She hurried down the hall towards the ladies before anyone had seen her.

Once inside, she braced herself on the counter, wincing as her tender, overworked muscles throbbed. Maybe Mickey was right. She’d spent months lying around in the dark, feeling like the world had ended, so maybe she’d began to compensate. She kept on going. Never stopping. Ever since that morning she woke up to run.

She stared at herself in the mirror, almost not recognizing her own face. Her jaw was sharper, her arms more toned, knuckles red and raw from their spar.

One extreme to the other wouldn’t do. She had to take care of herself or she’d never make it back. Another tear dropped to the countertop.

It couldn’t be over. That can’t have been the last time she’d ever see him, as just an image on the beach.

_It won’t be._

-

The Doctor shuffled into the galley, groaning with every step. His entire body felt like he had been chucked over a waterfall in a barrel, which had happened before, so he’d know.

Martha was already awake, pouring a mug of tea, with a plate of toast for herself waiting on the table. She gave him a look as he gingerly lowered himself into a chair.

“All right, Doctor?”

“Just a bit sore.” He flexed his hand, working out the ache in his knuckles.

Martha chuckled. “You? Sore? What happened to that superior Time Lord physiology?”

The Doctor winced as he rolled his shoulder. “I dunno. Woke up from a kip like this—feels like I got in a fight. Would you mind making one for me?”

“Sure.” She pulled a mug from the cabinet and paused, brows meeting. “Think it’s from being infected by that sun entity?”

“Dunno. Maybe? I ran a diagnostic scan, but nothing out of the ordinary.” He closed his eyes and scrunched his face as he massaged his bicep.

“Anything you can take? A futuristic anti-inflammatory medication?”

“I’ve taken something already.” He heard a mug being placed before him and glanced up. His hearts seized in his chest and his breath came to a halt as he stared at the chip on mug’s rim.

It wasn’t that long ago, relatively speaking. He’d spent nearly the entire night stuck with Rose in a thirteenth century armoire, waiting for a castle siege attempt to fail. There was very little room inside of the armoire, so they had to huddle close. She’d been fidgety, nervous, her leg shaking from trying so hard not to lean against him.

Outside, the clamour had risen to a horrific chorus of shouting warriors and clashing metal. Smoke lingered on the air, and every so often Rose would flinch when she’d hear the scream of a dying horse.

He couldn’t talk to soothe her. There were guards patrolling the hallways, and armoires weren’t exactly sound proof. But the evidence of her discomfort had shifted to indicate torment, her breath uneven, and her heart galloping in her chest. She’d even whimpered, and that was all he could take. He’d placed his hand on her waist, as it was the easiest place to reach her without knocking against the door.

She’d stilled, and her breath had stopped, which concerned him even more. He gently pulled her back against him to help take the weight off of her leg, and she relaxed, breath escaping in a sigh. Her head had turned, nose brushing against the collar of his oxford. He’d swallowed as the scent of her hair had filled his nostrils. He had slid his other arm around her to help brace her further.

They’d remained there for three more hours, and at one point Rose had dozed off when the battle had moved to the surrounding moor. He’d rested his chin against her forehead and closed his own eyes, focusing on how it felt to hold her instead of on the chaos outside.

When they’d arrived back at the TARDIS, they were both too wound up by the events to sleep. They’d gone to the galley to have tea, and share an entire pint of ice cream. She’d reached across him to grab her mug, the very mug sitting before him now, and had turned her head to find her lips just inches from his. It would’ve taken him hardly any effort at all to just lean forward and close the distance.

She’d licked her lips, pupils huge and dark—and looking back now, it seemed she’d have been okay with it. But instead, he’d turned away and stepped back, putting distance between them. She’d fumbled with the mug and dropped it, chipping off a small piece on the rim. He’d turned back in time to see her slipping out of the room, leaving the mug behind.

Neither incident—the armoire or the mug—had ever been brought up again.

“What is it now?” asked Martha, pulling him from the memory.

“Nothing.” He pushed the mug away.

“Something wrong with the tea?” She sat across from him. Her eyes darted to the mug and she sighed, looking away.

The hot contents of the mug had made dozens of stars, along with the Rose Nebula, appear on its dark surface.

The Doctor tugged on his ear lobe. “Just thought I’d gotten rid of that mug. See? It’s chipped.”

Martha lifted her eyebrows and made a face, like he’d said something that she didn’t quite believe. 


	2. Chapter 2

Rose stared at the monitor, watching the data compile from the dimensional signal scanner. It refreshed every few seconds with no change, but that didn’t deter her.  _Something_  had changed.

Two days ago, she’d noticed that three stars had gone missing from the night sky. That kind of thing didn’t just happen. So, she’d set up residence at the Torchwood observatory to chase the origin.

Mickey and Jake were taking a break at a table nearby, surrounded by half-empty boxes of pizza. They didn’t have to be there, but it helped to know that she wasn’t in this alone.

At her side was the device she’d set up over a year ago to relay a continuous signal, targeting the quantum signature of the prime universe. There was no way of knowing if it worked. She could only hope that if it did, and he heard it, that he’d find her.

 _Find me. Please._ She closed her eyes with that thought, daring the universe to defy it.

“Oi, Rose. Sun’ll be up soon,” said Mickey, bringing her a slice of pizza on a paper towel. “You haven’t slept in two days.”

She grabbed the pizza, and devoured it nearly whole. God, it was so good. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was till now. It wasn’t quite the best pizza she’d ever had, but it came close.

Mickey chuckled. “Or eaten, I reckon.”

Rose wiped her mouth and tossed the napkin in the bin by the desk. “Sorry. I’m so close, Mickey, I know it. Can’t stop now.”

 “We’re still not sure that the stars are actually gone. Could be a dust cloud blocking them, or a rogue planet, remember?”

Rose sighed. “I’ve already disproven those theories. You saw for yourself. I know they have to go through official channels before they grant me permission to use the stupid canon again, but they know I’m right.”

Mickey scratched his jaw. “Yeah, but—”

There was a loud and sudden bang. Rose jumped, arms flinging out and nearly clocking Mickey across the jaw.

He just barely ducked out of her way in time. “Rose! What the—?”

“You didn’t hear that?” She braced herself and listened.

BANG, BANG!

“There it was again! Tell me you hear that?”

“No...” Mickey looked around, bewildered.

“That loud bang. You didn’t hear it?”

“Something the matter?” asked Jake, bounding over with a half-eaten pizza in his hand.

The scanner refreshed, and the signal detection light began to blink. Rose stared at it in disbelief. “Oh, my god.” Her hands flew to her mouth. “Omigod!”

“What?!” asked Mickey, growing exasperated. "What's wrong?"

“It picked up on something! Don’t just stand there, lock onto it!”

“On it!” Mickey hurried over to the other monitor, and initiated the signal lock sequence.

Rose pulled up a video feed—nothing but static. “Come on, come on…”

An eerie sensation washed over her, like someone had entered the room with them. Her nerves teetered on an edge, expecting another loud bang at any second, but none came. A feeling like the patter of little spider feet crept up her spine; she whipped her head around. No one there but Jake, who’d just rushed over to help Mickey.

They both gave her worried glances as they worked, and she looked away from them.

“What’s the ping again?” asked Mickey. “Having trouble.”

Rose read the coordinates off of the scanner, her voice shaking. She tried to ward off the overwhelming sense of dread as she looked back to video feed.

The screen flickered black for a split second, and returned to static. Her heart leapt into her throat.

“Did you see that?” asked Jack.

“Yes—Doctor! Can you hear me?” Rose cried. “Doctor?”

Nothing but silence.

“Micks, is this bloody mic working?” She touched the screen to pull up the mic settings.

Mickey glanced up briefly. “Yep—got it! Locked on!” He gave the desk a triumphant smack, and turned up the volume on the scanner.

Rose stared at the snow on the screen, eyes searching every pixel. Her heart couldn’t possibly beat any faster.

“Hello? Doctor, are you there? Is that you?”

An image flashed on the monitor—the interior of some kind of shuttle, or bus. Audio remained indecipherable, but the video feed kept blinking in and out. She could see glimpses of commotion. People in a panic, lights flickering, the back of the Doctor’s head. THE BACK OF—

“DOCTOR!”

The screen went dark, and blinked back to the same image of the back of his head. She screamed his name again and again, but he wouldn’t turn around. Something came across the audio scanner, a fragment of a voice.  _His_ voice.

“ _Everyone else_?” The Doctor asked. He had that tone, like he was taking charge in a situation that had gone very wrong.

"DOCTOR!" Rose gripped the desk, her knuckles going white.

“ _How are we? Everyone all right_?” They heard the Doctor say just before they lost the signal.

“NO!” Rose grabbed the monitor, shaking it. "Jake! Mickey, get him back; something's wrong!"

"I'm trying!" Mickey swore under his breath as Jake gave him suggestions.

All Rose could hear after that was the pounding of her heart in her ears; everything else faded away to the distance. Tears slipped from her eyes before she was even aware that she was crying. Her breaths were shallow and fast, and she tried to calm herself down by breathing through her nose. She’d found him, and he didn’t see her. Could he have seen her if he’d only have turned around?

"Sorry, Rose," said Mickey. “It’s gone.”

Rose continued staring at the screen for several minutes, afraid that if she moved, she’d collapse under the weight of her anguish. Or was it elation? Hard to tell. Both sensations swarmed inside of her, making her feel nauseated.  A knot formed in her chest, and she flinched as she finally tore her eyes away and shut them tightly.

“I found him,” she said, voice breaking. She opened her eyes and took another steadying breath, feeling it rush into her lungs.

Mickey put his hand on her shoulder. “M’sorry. We tried everything.”

She smiled serenely at him, unable to focus on his face through the blur of tears. "Why? You saw him, yeah? I'll get back. I know I will now."

Mickey nodded, and looked away, pensive. “What d’you reckon you heard earlier?”

“M’not sure.”

“Bit odd that we got a signal right around the same time, though,” Jake said.

“Maybe I’ve just been awake too long.” She fidgeted with the zip on her jacket, and kept tucking and untucking a strand of hair from behind her ear. “My brain’s playing tricks on me. You know how sometimes you hear someone saying your name when you’re falling asleep, yeah?”

Jake chuckled. “Then you need to get some sleep, mate.”

Rose gave him a playful salute, but made no promises.

“You go ahead, Rose. I’ll clean up this mess,” Mickey said, heading for the pizza boxes.

Rose remained motionless by the scanning station, despite their urges. Felt like she was floating outside of herself, like she was back on the TARDIS, listening to the Doctor ramble on about entropy or edible ball bearings. Hearing his voice again…

Drawing in a shaky breath, she replayed the footage they’d captured, and paused it when the Doctor appeared on screen. Her chest tightened at the sight of him. She could tell, even from behind, that his jaw was clenched, and shoulders were rigid.

“He was in danger,” she said to herself, touching the screen. “I couldn’t do anything…”

She felt a hand on her shoulder, and glanced at it briefly before looking back at the screen. The Doctor’s hair was a little shorter in the back. She wondered how much time had passed for him.

“He’ll be all right,” Mickey said. “He can take care of himself.”

“Yeah.”  _But he was on his own._

And just like that, all of the emotion building inside of her receded. She lifted her chin, her gaze hardened. “I need that cannon. Don’t have time to wait anymore.”

-

The Doctor stared at the TARDIS viewscreen in silence. Though they were now light years away from Midnight, it still felt too close. A thousand years could pass, and it still wouldn’t be far enough away. His mind would take a few days to fully recover from the mental assault, but even so, once the healing process completed the creature would certainly have left some kind of imprint behind.

Already he could feel it, like scar tissue, embedded somewhere deep.

His stomach growled, a welcome sign that things were somewhat normal again. “I’ve got a craving,” he said dubiously, bottom lip jutting out and eyebrows meeting.

“A what?” Donna asked from behind him on the jump seat.

“A craving for pizza. Would you like pizza, Donna? We can hit New York’s finest. Or would you rather try a Chicago-style deep dish? Or, there’s always New New New New New New New—oh that’s enough—York.” He waggled his eyebrows. “The perfect era for pizza. Don’t typically crave pizza, so, might as well go for it. What say you?”

“Oh, no. I don’t think so. I ate too much at the—oh, you know.” She flipped a page of her magazine. “Think I need to go to bed anyway.”

“Suit yourself.”

Donna stood and began to leave, but hesitated at the rail near the corridor entrance. “You’re still going, aren’t you?”

“To get pizza? Absolutely. Donna, one thing I’ve learnt travelling the universe is you never ignore a craving.”

Donna rolled her eyes. “At least you’ve learnt  _something_.”

“I’ve learnt plenty, thank you.” He straightened his tie for emphasis.

“Oh, you’re such a—Look, you just went through this awful thing, and I don’t want you doing something stupid, that's all.”

He waved his hand. “Aw, I’ll be all right. G’night, Donna.”

She sighed and shook her head, then retreated towards her room.

The Doctor turned back to the console and set a course for New York City on twenty-first century Earth.

He stepped outside and shoved his hands in his coat pockets, scanning the corner. Four pizza parlours to choose from right there within his sights.

 _Which one_ _’s the best?_  Rose had asked. He closed his eyes as the memory of her voice filled his mind.

He’d been in his ninth form back then, and already hopelessly enamoured. He’d told her that the only way to know for certain was to try them all. And so they had.

Drawing himself out of the memory, he made his way to the one Rose had liked best, and sat at a table where he had a good view of the window seats. He ordered a couple of single slices, and looked up when the bell on the door rang. Just in time. In strolled Rose, followed by his younger self—blimey, did he always look like such a grump?

The Doctor watched as his younger self gave the parlour a brief once-over, eyes narrowed. Whatever set him on edge (now obvious that it was the presence of his older self) was forgotten rather quickly as Rose grasped his hand to pull him along with her to follow the hostess.

They were seated at a booth by the windows, and placed their order before falling into a light-hearted conversation.

The Doctor barely acknowledged that his pizza order had arrived, too focused on Rose’s tongue-touched smile from across the room. She was illuminated by the neon sign on the outside of the building, making her appear ethereal and timeless. Or maybe that was his own mind’s doing.

She broke into a full belly laugh at something said by his younger self, who then averted his eyes, ducking his daft head to hide his grin. Rose kept her gaze on him as he looked away, and her expression softened and she bit her lip.

The Doctor inhaled sharply at the ache that bloomed in his chest. He blinked several times as his eyes began to sting, but regained his composure swiftly, clenching his jaw.

When his younger self looked back up, it was too late, her adoring gaze whisked away by the delicious scent of melting cheese and crispy pepperoni. The waitress sat the pizza before them on a metal tray stand and wandered off to take another order.

As they ate, bits of their conversation drifted to his ears. He tried as hard as he could to not watch them, but his perception was honed in on her movements in his periphery.

This was a terrible idea.

“Oh, my god. This is the best pizza I’ve ever had,” Rose said, eyes rolling back as she swallowed her first bite.

“Do we have a winner?” The Doctor’s younger self said, blue eyes soft as he watched her.

“Think so, yeah.” She grinned.

“Better than chips, is it?”

Rose squinted in thought. “I dunno; they’re different.”

“Because you’ve got a thing for chips.”

“Shut up. Who hasn’t?”

The Doctor’s younger self took a bite of his own slice, chewed thoughtfully, and swallowed with a shrug. “Either way, it’s all junk, Rose.”

“So?”

“So, if I ever lose you, I know just where you’ll be. Nearest chippy.”

Rose scoffed. “If anyone gets lost, it’ll be you, mister ‘ _sorry, you_ _’ve been gone a whole year_.’”

“Hey,  _you_ _’re_  the one always wandering off!”

“Yeah, well, at least I know what I’m doing when I wander off, thanks.” She grinned at his deepening scowl.

“Is that what you think?” He held her gaze, challenge flashing in his eyes.

She tossed her pizza crust to her plate. “Oh, stop. I’ll always find you again.”

He shook his head. “As long as you only get lost on planets that have chip stands or pizza parlours.”

Rose laughed, and his younger self smiled, this time without hiding it. But his smile faded as he watched her pull another slice to her plate.

“Sometimes, Rose, it’s like I turn my back for a second, and you’re gone.”

Their eyes met across the table, and her expression held a hint of sorrow.

Yeah, this was a  _really_  bad idea. The Doctor stood, placed payment for his untouched pizza on the table, and left just as a large group was entering, hoping to obscure himself amid their commotion.

-

Rose looked away from the indention in the wet sand where the TARDIS had been just been moments before. She felt the other Doctor take her hand, and on reflex, she brushed her thumb along his wrist.

She peered up at him, and he met her eyes, his expression indecipherable. His gaze drifted over her face, but he remained quiet. Too quiet. She turned to face him fully, and reached for his other hand.

At her touch, his expression shifted to something she’d never quite seen—or perhaps noticed—before, but was clear as crystal. Utter and undeniable love.  _For her_. Everything he felt written in every detail of his face; his mouth, his brows drawn together, his eyes. Not a single bit of it hidden away.  _Oh, god._

Her lip began to quiver as she tried to hold back her tears. He’d said it, he’d been the one to say how he felt, and she’d kissed him for it. But it was an impulse born from years of holding back, like those words spoken in his voice had some kind of hypnotic effect on her.

“Sorry.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “What for?”

“Grabbing you into a kiss like that, without… without knowing if you’d want it.” She licked her lips, tasting salt from the sea.

“It’s all right—in case my kissing you back didn’t convey that enough.” He smiled in reassurance.

She focused on his smile, and a wave of emotion crashed through her. She’d missed his face so much.

But part of her mind screamed that this wasn’t him. This was a copy. The other Doctor had left her here  _again_ , and she hated him for it beyond her wildest imagination. After tearing across universes in search of him, after finding him dead, or nonexistent, or at the wrong point in his timeline. After finally,  _finally_ meeting his eyes over the distance through the smoke and bleary street lights. He’d just… left her behind.

“We’re in Norway, right?” he asked, oblivious to the torment rattling on in her mind.

She blinked at him. “Um, yes.”

“Brilliant! What do you say, Rose Tyler? Why don’t we get off this bloody beach and find one of those roadside kiosks where they serve meatballs on a stick. I’m  _starving_! Turns out being a complicated event in time and space is hungry work. Maybe if they have any left when I’m finished, I’ll share it with you. Oh—you’d rather have chips wouldn’t you.” He smiled at her like his entire life depended upon her smiling back at him.

Rose’s lips quirked involuntarily.

He bent towards her, seeking out her line of sight. “Was that a smile?”

“No.”

“I think it was.”

The harder she tried not to smile, the more she failed, until she was full on grinning. She looked away from him and reminded herself that she was furious.

 “M’not smiling.”

“It was a smile.”

“No it wasn’t.” She rolled her eyes as another smile wormed its way to her lips. She tried to stop it, but made a weird smirky face instead.

He held out his hand, fingers wiggling. “Let’s get off this beach at least. S’bloody cold.”

She took his hand, shivering herself as a cold breeze brushed across her cheek and rustled her hair.

They stared at each other a moment longer, and her hand tightened around his. His shoulders relaxed, and his eyes softened.

“I missed you,” he said, his voice heavy with emotion. “I’m so glad that I’m with you again.”

She smiled through the storm of sorrow and fury inside of her, his confession like the sun breaking through the clouds.

“Missed you too.” Her own voice trembled, barely able to get the words out. She felt his thumb brush along hers, and it was all so familiar that she believed herself.

They then walked hand-in-hand towards Jackie, and on towards a new life. Together.

-

The Doctor sat by the fire in the library, a book on quantum entanglement theory open on his lap. The heat from the fire warmed him, but inside he felt hollow and cold. He’d lost all of them. Every single one. For a few bright moments, his TARDIS had been filled with laughter and camaraderie, and in no time at all, it was swept away from him.

A chipped mug of piping hot tea steamed from the table beside him, and he reached for it, taking a sip. The notes of licorice root and lemon flowed over his tongue as its herbal fragrance filled his nostrils. Rose had brought a collection of herbal teas on board one time when she’d fallen ill from teshryn fever. Not the best infusion he’d had, but it was the last one left in the tin. Best not to let too many reminders linger about.

As he looked down at the smattering of stars that twinkled on the surface of the mug, he felt a small flicker of solace in knowing that in some universe, he wasn’t lost. That he was at her side for as long as his single heart kept ticking. He turned the cup, eyes following the petal-like curves in the billowing cloud of gas that formed the rose nebula.

From now on, in this universe, he’d travel alone.

-

Rose and the Doctor had spent the entire day moving and unpacking boxes into their new flat. Six months had passed, and they’d decided that they needed a place that was  _theirs,_ with no echoes of a more difficult time.

A lot had happened in those six months. The Doctor had refused Pete’s generous offers to work at Torchwood, instead opting to freelance from his room in Rose’s old flat. He’d constructed a makeshift laboratory and workbench, and along with his desk, there’d been scarcely any room for his small bed. A bed she hadn’t shared.

Rose and the Doctor had settled into a familiar rhythm. Always close, always touching, and yet never going beyond that old invisible boundary. They hadn’t even kissed since the beach, though that was Rose’s doing. She needed time, and the Doctor had given her the space she wanted.

They’d gone out for chips, explored the new world in their little rented zeppelin, and even found an armoire that’d been unopened for centuries in a long-abandoned castle. All so familiar, so comforting, and like before, Rose found herself falling in love with him all over again.

The Doctor was in the process of unpacking a box of cups and placing them carefully into the cabinet, when Rose put a kettle on.

“Need a break,” she said, leaning against the counter beside him.

The Doctor smiled at her as he set out two mugs. He had stubble on his jaw, and her fingers itched to touch his face.

“Could do with a cuppa myself,” he said.

She looked around at their flat, attempting to envision exactly where their belongings would go, but it was hard with so many random objects stacked everywhere.

“Blimey, didn’t realize you had so much junk at the old place. You were only there for a few months!”

The Doctor looked affronted. “ _Junk_? I’ll have you know, that there—”

She put up her hands to stop him. “Sorry,  _stuff_. That better?” She smiled, truly not intending to upset him.

His furrowed brow softened. “Well, I suppose.”

“Just didn’t realise we had room for it is all.”

He grinned and patted his pocket. “Bigger on the inside, my pockets.”

Rose laughed. “Oh, right.”

The kettle whistled, and the Doctor poured the steaming water into the two mugs. One of them, the darker of the two, had a surface that burst with glowing stars in the shape of a spiral galaxy as it warmed. The Doctor froze in place, staring at it.

Rose tilted her head. “What is it?”

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “You had one like this on the TARDIS.”

“Yeah,” she said, biting her thumb nail. “Found it at one of those discovery stores. S’not the rose nebula, but…”

She reached across the counter for it, and he still hadn’t moved, which meant she was distractingly close to him. His eyes shifted from the mug to her face.

“It’s also not broken.”

She nodded, now realizing why this whole situation felt so familiar. Licking her lips, she shifted so that she was between him and the counter, hopefully making it painfully obvious that she’d very much like it if he—

His lips pressed against hers, firm, yet chaste, and then he pulled back and searched her eyes. She reached out and hooked her finger in his blue coat’s pinstriped pocket, licking her lips.

“It’s… yeah,” she said, breathless.

He then quite suddenly enveloped her in his arms, pulling her to him as he tilted his head and closed his mouth over hers once more. She made a noise of surprise, and let go of his pocket so she could circle her arms around his shoulders and crush herself against him.

They grasped and tugged at each other, hands sliding through hair and up shirt hems. His mouth moved to her jaw, where he kissed until he reached her throat, just below her ear. She sighed, desire unfurling in her body, careening so swiftly through her veins that she felt like she might burst.

“Rose,” he whispered across her ear, nuzzling his nose into her hair.

She turned her face towards his collar, inhaling the familiar smell that she’d longed for all those lonely years. Her legs parted so he could fit between them, bringing their bodies even closer, and he gasped, arm flinging out to brace himself on the counter to regain control over his new part-human body and its far more sensitive places. His hand knocked against the galaxy mug, sending it tumbling over into the sink, where it hit against the spigot.

The chip that broke off the rim wouldn’t be discovered until late the following morning, when Rose awoke, blissfully sated and a little sore, with not a single smidge of a desire to run. 

 


End file.
